Bree
by Kailor Aurelius
Summary: When Asakura's editor gave her a job finding a story in the most unlikely of places, she never expected the story...to be her own.


**Kailor: So here's a new story! One I said I would write for WhiteHairRules. Hope you enjoy it, friend! I do apologize to my normal readers, but this one will not be a KonoSetsu. Instead I'm writing what I believe is the 2nd Setsuna/Asakura piece on this site. Setsakura? Asasuna? How should that go? Help?**

**Nuriko: As always, your reviews are greatly appreciated and ALL read with utmost attention and gratitude. **

The small girl with dark hair and long bangs jumped as a pair of hands slammed down on her desk.

"Where is Rakan?" The woman's red hair and flashing brown eyes made her even more intimidating than normal.

"Asakura, uh-"

"Where's Rakan, Nodoka? I don't have time to mess around. Is he in here? He's in here, isn't he?" Asakura strode around the desk, heading straight for the office door. Nodoka didn't rush to jump in her way, but she did follow her, mumbling protests and waving her appointment book.

The huge man with wild white hair looked up as his door flew open, banging off the wall. Asakura stormed in like the beginnings of a hurricane and Nodoka followed, barely hanging on to the earth in her wake. He smiled, throwing down his pen. "Asakura! Welcome back! How was Hardbrooke?"

"You know damn well how Hardbrooke was, Rakan." Asakura threw herself into the chair across the desk from him, waving away the still inaudibly protesting Nodoka. "It sucked. There isn't a single story there. You're giving me shit assignments, old man."

Rakan released Nodoka, who rushed gratefully from the office. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Look, Asakura. I'm not trying to give you crappy jobs, but there are no stories right now. Every city for miles is just boring right now."

"Bullshit," Asakura huffed. "Avery got to write three full pages on that football player that got caught sleeping with his wife's yoga instructor. Tore the dude apart. I could have torn him apart, put him back together, and torn him apart again, and you know it!" She threw her hands up, plopping back in her seat.

Rakan crossed his arms. "Asakura, not every story has to be about the bad in people. You don't have to tear everyone down with your pieces."

Asakura scoffed. "Really? We're a gossip magazine, Rak! We're all about tearing people down and spreading stories to start shit!"

"Maybe, but we're supposed to be journalists as well."

"The hell does that mean?"

"It means, you need to tell true stories sometimes too. Ones that don't hurt anyone." Rakan suddenly pointed at her, winking. "I've got an assignment for you."

Asakura's eyes widened. "Oh hell no. I do not like the sound of that."

Rakan grinned. "It's time I challenged you. You want the big, hard-hitting stories? You gotta show me you can find a story anywhere." He began searching through his drawers, pulling out little pieces of paper and discarding them as he went.

"Rakan, what are you plotting? Are you expecting me to go dig around Hardbrooke again until I find something? The town has one gas station and a dollar store. There's no story there."

Rakan shook his head, emerging triumphantly from his drawer. "Nope. I'm going to set something up for you. The assignment will be on your desk before the night ends." He waved his hand, shooing her. His other hand held a card with a number scribbled across the back in wavy handwriting. Asakura opened her mouth to argue and Rakan slammed his gargantuan hand on the desk between them, making his pen roll off.

She hurried out.

Nodoka kept her head down, focusing far too intently on her appointment book. Asakura sighed and stopped beside her desk. "Sorry about that, Nodoka."

Nodoka shook her head. "It's fine," she said in a very small voice.

Asakura stood for a moment, tapping her toe. Then she dug into the pocket of her pants. "Gum?"

For a moment, Nodoka was silent. Then she reached out, taking a piece from the pack. She smiled tremulously. Asakura nodded and waved, heading for her desk.

"Yo, Asakura. You're back." Her cubicle mate glanced up, fixing her little side pony and balancing a laptop on her knees.

"Hey, Yuna. Not for long, I'm sure."

"Uh oh. Ticked off Rakan again?"

"Yep. Though he knows I was right." Asakura sat before her computer, propping her feet up on the desk. "I always am."

"Yeah, but last time you were 'right', you spent six weeks bunking in Dover with an Amish family." Yuna laughed.

Asakura shivered. She did not want to think about that ever again. She was way too pampered for that lifestyle and by the third day, she would have sawed all of the children in half for a nice hot shower.

"Well, it's almost your birthday. You'll be here for that, right?" Yuna glanced at the calendar in the center of their cubicle. "Three weeks away. The big two-five!"

Asakura sighed. "Who knows? We'll see when the assignment gets here."

Hours later, as the lights were beginning to shut off, Yuna and Asakura were two of the last seven people there. They were fighting quietly as they played a card game on the desk. Asakura had just flipped over the last card she needed to beat Yuna, when a manilla envelope landed on top of her cards. "Hey!" she yelled, jumping back.

"Hey," Rakan said, grinning in a way she did not like at all. "There's your assignment. You'll be there for a month. Already got you set up with room and board."

"A month?" Asakura groaned. Yuna sighed. "Why a month?"

"I thought you may need it." Rakan shrugged, towering over her. "This isn't just getting a story out of the place you're going. This time, I don't want a conspiracy theory or a scandal. I want a story. A real story. Make me feel something from it. When you've found that, you can get the big stories here."

"What?" Asakura grabbed the envelope, opening it. "You want me to write some sappy, Ala Alba magazine crap? That's a literary magazine, Rak!"

"I know. And yes, that's exactly what I want. Good luck, kid."

As he marched off, Asakura read over the assignment break-down. "No. No. Rakan! No! I'm not doing this!"

"Then you can quit!"

"Rakan!" But he was gone.

Asakura handed Yuna the page, dropping into her seat. "He's joking. Right?"

"I don't think so." Yuna scanned the page, whistling low. "I'm just saying...I think you're screwed."

"Of course I'm screwed!" Asakura grabbed the page again, staring at it as if her anger could make it change. "How am I going to find a story worth telling in an old folks home!?"


End file.
